


Sunset Over Coruscant

by Footloose



Series: May the Fourth [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Angsty Schmoop, M/M, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-04
Updated: 2013-05-04
Packaged: 2017-12-10 10:31:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/785043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Footloose/pseuds/Footloose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur Pendragon, war hero of the battle of Albion, fully expects that the Jedi High Council will do whatever they can to convince him to leave his galaxy and lead an army against the Sith.</p><p>He doesn't expect them to stoop so low as to dangle a lure impossible for him to refuse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunset Over Coruscant

**Author's Note:**

> Happy May the Fourth!

" _Him_?"

Prince Arthur Pendragon, High Lord of Camelot, Regnant of Avalon and heir to the throne of all Albion, diplomat representing the seven Kingdoms at the fringes of known space, one Councillor among many in the Council of Neutral Systems, and famed war hero in the long battle against the Sith, could barely cover up his surprise.

Fortunately, he had been raised to display nothing but the utmost arrogance and disdain when in the presence of court members, and he used those skills now. Leon, the Captain of his guard and closest friend, winced, but the representative from the Galactic Republic raised his chin and looked down the line of his long nose. Arthur knew that stare. Morgana had stared at him like this when they were children, and that was how he knew that he wasn't fooling anyone.

Least of all the Jedi Knight standing a respectful distance away, the hood of his cloak down around his shoulders, those bright blue eyes and sharp cheekbones unmistakeable, even all these years later.

"Given the strategic importance that you represent and the recent attempts on your life, Your Highness, the Jedi High Council would prefer to ensure that your stay on Coruscant is without incident."

"I do not require the services of a glorified _bodyguard_ whose only talent involves waving around his glow-stick," Arthur snapped. Leon made a gurgling sound as if he were dying of embarrassment, the representative's eyebrow shot up and his mouth pursed from sucking a proverbial lemon, and Arthur had finally, _finally_ , elicited a response from the Jedi. 

The Jedi's mouth twitched as if he was biting down on a comeback -- he _always_ had a comeback ready, Arthur knew -- and a faint glimmer of amusement reached those gorgeous eyes. Arthur focused his attention on the representative. "My men are quite capable. Use the Jedi somewhere else, where he would be more useful."

"The High Council --" the representative began, but Arthur wouldn't hear the argument. He turned on his heel and stalked down the concourse, Leon following, the Red Guard falling into formation. 

They made quite the sight, Arthur knew. Behind him were two columns of elite warriors trained in the ancient arts, each easily a match for a Jedi, dressed in silver armour and red cloaks and marked with the golden Pendragon crest, burdened with swords made of a secret material that couldn't be easily cut by a Jedi lightsaber and guns with the triple the load capacity of even Republic weaponry. They were Arthur's men. He had taught them himself. And it was his army that had held the Sith from Albion. Mere men, human men, men without the Force who had stood fast against the so-called superior weaponry and troops that Grievous had sent to their part of the universe in the hopes of attaining access to the Republic.

The Republic had sent their own army to Albion once they had learned of Grievous' plans, and had arrived both too late to be of use and in time to watch as the Red Guard of Camelot sent the Sith forces running from Albion with their tails between their legs. That unexpected success was the reason that Arthur had been invited to Coruscant. He had come not to accept the award that they had used as a feeble pretence to bring him here, but because he knew that the Jedi High Council and the Galactic Republic were going to ask him to assist them in the war.

They really weren't as subtle as they thought they were.

Arthur ignored Jedi Knight as he fell in step beside Arthur, as his dark cloak fluttered behind him, teasingly tangling with Arthur's long red cape. 

"You never complained about how I waved my glow-stick around before, _My Lord_ ," the Jedi said, his voice pitched so that only Arthur could hear him. Arthur shot him an appalled glare, turning just in time to see that familiar smirk on even more familiar lips before the Jedi pulled the cowl of his cloak over his head, shadowing his face.

"Shut up, _Mer_ lin," Arthur said, trying and failing to suppress his grin. Gods. Arthur had missed him.

 

* * *

 

"I know what they're doing," Arthur said later, when he was settled in the accommodations that the Galactic Republic had arranged for him. His men had already scrubbed his personal suite; it was as private as it would get. "They're using you to get to me."

"You think so?" Merlin asked, turning slightly, though his attention was firmly on the floor-to-ceiling window with the skyline view over Coruscant. The city was beautiful like this, a faint haze clinging to the horizon, a brief pause on the nigh-constant traffic as the sun sank in pearly pink hues. The light streamed through and cast Merlin in an angelic halo; Arthur wondered if Merlin had picked that spot deliberately.

Merlin had discarded his simple blue cloak, draping it over a chair. Without the cloak, Arthur could see the changes that the years had wrought since he had last seen Merlin. His shoulders were broader, his frame leaner, nearly wiry. His hair was longer but still in the same wavy, fresh-from-the-bed ruffle that Arthur remembered. There was a tightness to his mouth and a distance in his eyes that spoke of things seen and done that no man should ever have had to see or do.

Arthur wished he could make those go away.

"Why else would they assign _you_? I'm hardly helpless, and the assassination attempts were bloody well _insulting_. You're wasted here. You should be out saving galaxies." _Like you wanted_ , Arthur didn't add, still feeling hurt. He hadn't understood why Merlin would leave him to fight someone else's war until the Sith tried to bring ruin to Albion.

 _I have to keep you safe,_ Merlin had told him. His blue eyes had blazed with an inner light, a kind of desperate madness that had been both beautiful and frightening to behold. _I can't let them get to you. I can't._

It had taken years and a war, turning a padawan learner into a Jedi Knight and Shadow Sentinel and an arrogant Princeling into a renowned King battle-scarred from his own confrontation with the darkness that threatened the Empire, but Arthur understood, now. Arthur loved his people so much that he had stopped at nothing to protect them. Merlin had loved him so much that he had gone to fight a war in the hopes of keeping it from reaching Arthur.

Arthur felt both humbled by the strength of Merlin's love and ashamed that he had ever thought that Merlin had left because he didn't love Arthur anymore.

He wished he knew how Merlin felt for him now, but he didn't have the right to ask. He was the one who had burned that bridge, even if it had been Merlin who had left.

"Well?" Arthur asked, tearing his eyes from the long line of Merlin's body, appreciating the dark navies and silvers and blacks of his tunic and breeches, the colours suiting him. His two lightsabers were crossed in the small of his back, marring the otherwise perfect curve leading Arthur's gaze down to Merlin's arse. "You can't tell me that you're not a lure to keep me here."

Merlin bowed his head. "I did tell them that you'd see through that bollocks of an award ceremony, that you'd know why they really wanted you here. But you try telling them that the future Heir of a string of planets that clings to medieval rites and rituals isn't the least bit stupid."

"I've done some stupid things," Arthur said quietly. "I've said some stupid things. To you in particular."

Merlin startled. Wide eyes stared at Arthur, only to look away almost immediately. He studied something out the window as if his life depended on it, leaning with one hand against the glass, his body tight and on guard, ready for an attack.

Just like Arthur had taught him all those years ago.

Arthur hated that Merlin should feel the need to protect himself from _Arthur_.

Neither of them spoke. The silence stretched until it felt as if it were about to snap. Arthur swallowed his pride and blurted out, "I still love you," even as Merlin dropped his hand from the glass, turned around, and said, "I miss you _so much_."

They blinked at each other, Merlin looking as stunned as Arthur felt, the words sinking in and sinking in again before he could savour them, before he could accept them.

Arthur dropped every pretence and met Merlin halfway, an entanglement of arms that held the other so tightly, there was hardly any space between them. Hardly any air.

The first kiss lacked grace, full of hard urgency and _want_ , clashing teeth and smashed noses, but it took them nothing at all to adjust to all the changes that had taken place without either of them noticing. Merlin was taller; Arthur was broader. Merlin was stronger than he'd been, before; Arthur was no longer afraid of asking for exactly what he wanted.

They broke for breath and went back in for more, softer, gentler, _sure_ , no less demanding than before but now with the added edge of relief of _finally_ , and of unspoken promises.

Arthur wasn't going to let Merlin go. Not now, never again.

He reached to cradle Merlin's face, to kiss him gently, to calm the shuddering that wracked through his body. Arthur pulled away just enough to see Merlin's face when he felt the damp of Merlin's cheeks.

Merlin's eyes were bright and watery. Tears spilled from them, one by one, as if he'd been holding them back since the day he climbed onto the ship with Master Gaius and Arthur had refused to say good-bye. Arthur's heart ached at the memory. He had wanted nothing more than to run up the gangplank, to wrap Merlin in his arms, to beg him not to go, and if he couldn't have convinced Merlin to stay, well, Arthur was just going to have to go with him.

He'd been too much of a coward.

"This was your doing, then? You set yourself as a sacrificial lamb just to see me again?"

Merlin flushed and shook his head. "Gaius, actually."

"Gaius," Arthur said softly. He imagined that Gaius was tired of Arthur's nearly daily messages for the last several years, furtively trying to find out how Merlin was.

"He may say something to you," Merlin said, his brows furrowing. He wiped his cheeks with the back of his sleeves. "He might tell you that I've been _pining_. I don't know why he'd lie like that."

"Me neither," Arthur said, swatting Merlin's hands out of the way so that he could dry the tears himself. "Maybe he's just getting old. The mind's going. For instance, he might believe that I've been asking after you every day since you left. I don't know where he might have gotten that impression."

Merlin huffed a laugh. Arthur smiled.

"What do I do, Merlin? Tell me what I should do. Should I say that I have to concern myself with my father's Kingdom? That I cannot help them because I must defend my galaxy and protect my people, same as I've been doing all along?" Arthur knew that wasn't an option. Now that the Sith knew what the Red Guard of Albion could do, what kind of secret technologies and ancient techniques that they had perfected, Grievous would make every attempt to subvert them to his cause. "Or do I tell them that I will stay and fight their war and leave my people defenceless and a direct route to the Republic without surety?"

Merlin dropped his head. He forced a thin smile and shrugged jerkily. "I understand. The Council will, too. You have to do what's best for --"

Arthur took Merlin's face in his hands and lifted it up to meet his eyes. 

"Arthur?"

"Or do I tell them that I will stay? That I will help them win their war? That I will train their men and teach them how to make weapons that will withstand lightsabers and that I will lead an army," Arthur said, running a hand from Merlin's cheek, down his throat, and onto his chest. "But that I will only do it they allow you keep your promise to me."

Merlin stared at him, the pinch in the middle of his brow more pronounced than Arthur remembered. "What promise?"

"You swore to do anything and everything to keep me safe. You can't very well do that if you're not by my side."

A Jedi Knight was supposed to be emotionless and impassive, but Merlin didn't even try to stop the smile that spread across his lips and reached his eyes.

"A Jedi never makes a promise they don't intend to keep," Arthur said. It took him far too long to learn how true that was. "The Council will honour that, won't they?"

"It doesn't matter," Merlin said, his fingers twisting into the fabric of Arthur's shirt. "Because I will. I can't believe you remembered."

"I'm never letting you leave me again." Arthur leaned in for a kiss. Just one more, before he went to stand before the Master Jedi, where he would tell them that he would accept no less than Merlin with him always.

Only to be wrenched away and twisted to the ground, Merlin on top of him, a crash deafening the air, a rainfall of glass shattering all around them. Arthur's instincts kicked in immediately. He pushed Merlin off but Merlin was already scrambling, rolling smoothly to his feet. Arthur twisted and crouched out of the line of sight of the window, a gun in his hands, and he was about to shout _Merlin get out of the way you idiot_ when his men burst into the room.

"Are you all right, my Lord?" Leon asked, ordering the men to fan out with a simple look.

"I'm fine. Merlin --"

"Merlin is going to find the assassin and kill him," Merlin said, crossing the room. Every trace of joy in his expression was gone, now, hidden behind the detached mask of a Jedi Sentinel. Merlin grabbed his cloak, threw it around his shoulders, and crouched next to Arthur. His hands swept over Arthur's body to make certain that he was all right; he didn't stop until Arthur brushed him away.

"Don't be stupid --"

"I won't be long." Merlin robbed Arthur out of a protest with a brazen kiss that drew a surprised gasp from Leon. Merlin broke away and said, "No matter what you tell the Council, no matter what you decide, I will always be with you from this point forward. Except. Well. The next hour or so."

Merlin took a running jump out the window. Arthur caught a glimpse of Merlin landing easily on a speedster zipping past, only to lose him seconds later when the vehicle banked around a sharp left corner.

He turned to see Leon staring at him, wide-eyed; the rest of the Red Guard were at least polite enough to be looking elsewhere, pretending that they hadn't seen their future King kissing a Jedi. Arthur grit his teeth.

"Someone have this mess cleaned up," Arthur said, striding out of the room as if someone hadn't just tried to kill him and the love of his life hadn't thrown himself out of a fifty-storey window in pursuit of the assassin. "And perhaps see about inspecting the windows and having them replaced with something a little less susceptible to weapons fire."

"But what about Merlin?" Leon asked, following him out.

"Oh. Him." Arthur frowned, putting all the indifference that he normally used during court to good use. "When he returns, do let him know that I expect his presence at dinner this evening."

**Author's Note:**

> * * *
> 
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